You will find the very same bearded, tattooed, thick-frame-framed and painfully-skinny-jean-wearing punters down under, with the same unkempt facial hair, sporting similar vintage clothing and piercings. But, aside from their accent, the one thing that sets Melbournians apart is the colour black. They are swathed in it: black knee-high socks are worn under black open-toe sandals, black pants (or trousers) are worn high and wide-legged, mustard cardigans conceal oversized black smock dresses. The English idea of not trying but trying in the process of not trying has caught on down there: everyone seems to have worked out how to adopt that 'Kate Moss' air of indifference. They just wear more black.

If sitting on a milk crate in the gutter is your idea of a good time (and whose isn't?) then Melbourne is the place for you. Breakfasters gorge poached eggs 'guttersnipe-' (or street-urchin-) style, and coffee is drunk quickly before the hatch-work from the crate leaves too deep an impression on your behind. What started as an environmental effort and a means to dodge strict outdoor licensing laws has quickly become a quirky trend at the city's best breakfast venues.

Don't be alarmed if you spy what appear to be astronauts traipsing across the rooftops, they're actually just urban beekeepers doing their very Melbourne thing. Numerous restaurants in the city now have hives to generate their own liquid gold. Ladro in Prahran and Fitzroy was the first to bring in the bees, followed by Trunk, Roller Door café, La Luna Bistro, and now Pidapipó Gelateria on Lygon Street, Carlton, where honey moves from hive to hand in the same afternoon, via a topping of freshly-cut honeycomb.

It's a Monday morning in Melbourne and, as the sun rises, bleary-eyed commuters stagger towards urban cafés, desperate for their single origin fix. 'How do you take your coffee?' the barista asks, coolly stroking his rosary of coffee beans. Bemused punters place their orders without any real understanding of the difference between brews, but are reassured nonetheless by the pretentious way their milk is frothed. Caffeine lovers now pay up to $12 (about £6) a cup for the latest local brews in the city's many hot coffee spots, often prepared in glass test tubes and served black.

While the drinking in Melbourne takes place on rooftops, the eating happens underground. Walking at street-level in the CBD (Central Business District), you'll notice the music wafting up through pipes and peer down into a network of underground alcoves, bustling with foodies. Go Go Bar (perched below Chin Chin) is considered the city's best bar-restaurant-moving-art-space, while Tonka is pushing the culinary envelope down below with unique Indian fare, alongside Thai restaurant Coda.

Melbourne was the first city in the world to introduce the 'Jafflechute' - a toasted sandwich delivered via parachute straight into your mouth. To book this first ever float-down food delivery you simply need to pay via PayPal, select a time and stand at a given location at a set time. But, most importantly, why is a toasted sandwich called a Jaffle? Same reason a sausage is called a snag. No reason at all.